


scary love

by cowboyflesh (cowboymeat), lambchops (lambmeat)



Series: softcore [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Johnny Silverhand, Breeding, Cock Rings, Edgeplay, Femdom, Light Master/Pet(s) Dynamic, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboymeat/pseuds/cowboyflesh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambmeat/pseuds/lambchops
Summary: Rogue sweeps hair out of Johnny’s face sweetly, her other hand cradling his cheek with her thumb stroking the curve of his cheekbone. With him on his back, arms bound under him and his legs restrained, calf to thigh, he's completely vulnerable.“Make such’a good stud, Kerry. You gonna breed my bitch for me?”Kerry takes her words at face value and finds leverage on either side of Johnny’s hips. Without Rogue, Johnny would worry about Kerry breaking him in two.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/Johnny Silverhand, Kerry Eurodyne/Johnny Silverhand/Rogue Amendiares
Series: softcore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194509
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	scary love

It feels ridiculous. Soft rope slips behind his calf again before being brought around to his shin, then back through. It completes the first circuit by circling his thigh and teased through a loose knot, pulling taut as the next matrix begins. Johnny sits still, as he doesn’t have much choice now to squirm and make things any more difficult than he has already made it for Rogue, seeing as she had bound his arms first.

Kerry wasn’t allowed into the room yet. That laved over his feelings of vulnerability and absurdity somewhat, but he still found himself huffing like a bothered bear. 

“You act like you don’t want to be here,” Rogue says gruffly as she tugs a knot harder than necessary, “and yet you seemed all for it last night.”

“I know,” Johnny mumbles, trying to get comfortable. It’s hard when he’s got his arms neatly bound and tucked behind his back with one of his legs in the process of restriction. Curled in such a way that leaves him wholly exposed, his knee pushed up and calf flush to his thigh. 

‘Course, can’t tie him up while he’s wearing boxers, as they’ll get in the way and be impossible to get off. His cock sits in the crease of his thigh, half-mast and blushing. Residual precum from when Rogue had prepared him, stretched out with her fingers and kept him open with a plug, still beads at the tip.

Did him the courtesy of lending him a pair of her opaque thigh-highs since he complained about the itch of the binds against his leg hair the entire night following their last scene. They fit him snugly, filling them out enough to not cause slip and creases. Really accentuates his pale skin when coupled with his fluffy, black hair and dark eyes peering out from behind their curtain.

While secretly grateful, he was more apt to express his embarrassment in the form of scowls and huffs. Rogue peppers a handful of kisses to the satiny fabric as she finishes securing the final knot on his left before starting on her right.

“Not too cold?”

“‘M fine.”

The comforters trap his body heat nicely, keeping him comfortable and lax as Rogue handles his body easily. Her words add an extra layer of warmth, her experienced care and prep washing over his anxious nerves. Always a little nervous when he’s being used as their rope bunny in scenes, not used to such defenseless vulnerability.

On paper, when brought up in their little group chat they share their thoughts that may be too crude to openly discuss, he’s always gung-ho. Chomping at the bit, wanting to get right into the scene the moment everyone agrees on an idea. 

But sitting there, thinking about Kerry in the other room, collared and leashed, and him stretched out for him to take, makes his stomach knot up in nervous anticipation. 

“Ready for your stud?”

He blinks at Rogue, having been stuck in a loop in his head. She had finished the last set of knots without him noticing and now smiles at the bassist warmly, patiently. Swallowing, he gives a curt nod.

Rogue nods, running a hand over his flank in a Silverhand-approved show of affection before leaving to fetch the other man. A shiver he’d been fighting to suppress finally ripples up his spine. It’s a little pathetic, really; he’s panting gently without being touched. 

In the relative silence of the room, broken only with the gentle buzz of the bass from a song playing over the speakers in another room keeping him company, it’s as loud as a gunshot. The only other noise besides the blood rushing in his ears and starting to color his cheeks. 

He gradually relaxes against the bonds, testing their limits before the creaking floor announces the pair returning. Johnny bears down on the plug, readying himself for Kerry’s unbridled self. 

Rogue spent the morning edging Kerry casually, ignoring his whines of protest the whole way. Johnny watched out of the corner of his eye— pretending to be engrossed in his phone— as she tugged at the cock ring exaggerating Kerry’s arousal and whispered something to him. Ordered Johnny to the bedroom, and now here he is, properly tied up. Spread for Eurodyne to take out his pent-up frustration on like a pinup girl. 

He flinches as the door finally opens, creaking on its hinges. Doesn’t even look behind him; it’s a matter of seconds before Ker has his hands on him, rubbing his flank and taking gratuitous handfuls of his ass. 

“Behave yourself,” Rogue warns the vocalist. It only makes him hesitate for a moment before he’s toying with the plug, teasing the pad of his finger against the ring of muscle. 

Can’t help the sigh that comes with the stimulation, thighs reflexively splaying to allow the other man to fit between them. The sheer power of his frenzied hunger completely dulls any and all over-cooked and anxious thoughts in Johnny’s mind, unraveling the knot of nervous energy in his belly as the exploratory hand instead creates a coil hot to the touch, burning with arousal. 

The grace of his finger to Johnny’s rim turns into a grip around the flared base of the plug, testingly pulling on it. 

He gets scolded with a sharp  _ tch! _

Kerry’s leash, attached to a pretty collar specifically ordered for her boy— fine leather with short metal studs along it— gets pulled taut, wringing a huff out of the man. A reprimand makes him finally slow down, sit back on his heels as Rogue slips behind Johnny.

Kerry’s brows are furrowed with concentration and frustration alike, loose hair framing his face where his head is bowed against the pull of his collar. Agitated, wanting to feel the relief of Johnny’s messy hole spreading around his cock. He’s been patient and behaved all day, itching for his reward.

Just the sight of Kerry so pent up and eager helps to fill Johnny out the rest of the way until his own cock twitches against his stomach and drools pre onto his feverish skin. His hole flutters around the neck of the plug, aching to be free of the firm metal and instead filled with the other man.

Even though the vocalist is solely fixated on the need to stick his cock in any warm, wet hole, it makes his heart flutter, having that primal desire exerted on him. The incautious and urgent ache between his legs driving him near-mad as what he needs is held just out of reach.

“Don’t fuck him yet,” Rogue says, permitting Kerry to continue. 

The permission is cut with narrowed eyes and the slightest amount of slack given to the leash’s line, but that doesn’t stop him from immediately crowding against Johnny like a wound-up dog. Even the slightest stimulation of their cocks brushing together makes Kerry’s face fall slack in mindless pleasure, chasing it like a hare as the first testing rut turns into a desperate humping. 

He pants raggedly above Johnny, hands gripping the other’s lithe waist to keep him steady. The resulting moan can’t be helped, not as Johnny’s face heats up in a furious blush and his stomach twists into knots at the show of pure desperation and carnal need. In his rabid thrusts, he ruts more against Silverhand’s stomach than against his cock, eliciting little noises from the bassist all the same.

After just a minute of fervid frotting, Rogue pulls the leash and signals for Eurodyne to stop. He does, punctuated by a weak spurt of precum painting Johnny’s navel. His cock throbs, flushed an angry red all the way through from his hours of edging, and his face reflects the torment he’s under by being denied yet again.

“Poor thing,” Rogue cooes, “bet that hurts.”

Kerry nods frantically, sweat slipping from his brow.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” Rogue continues, idly petting Johnny’s clavicle. “Good boys get treats.”

_ “Fuck—  _ please,” Kerry pants, hips having a mind of their own as they buck against Johnny. The words are followed by another tug, then a whine.

“Dogs don’t talk,” she reminds him. The scolding, however politely delivered, still makes Kerry drop his head in apology. So close to his reward, willing to do anything for it now.

Shifting forward, Rogue takes the pleasure of finally removing the plug. Not to say she doesn’t take her time; she pauses where the toy is girthiest, giving Johnny one last proper warmup before she sets Kerry on him. It brings a smile to her lips seeing Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up in abject delight. 

“Shit,” he breathes, just barely audible as his body both rejects and adores the sensation. Johnny’s mouth hangs open stupidly as he tries to hold his tongue. The tight quarters between his partners, with Rogue’s presence ghosting warmth over him and the waves of heat sloughing off of Eurodyne, is intoxicating. 

Not one for casual touch, the unrelenting contact is as alluring as it is maddening. 

He feels gloriously and terribly empty as his domme slides the toy the rest of the way out, his chest deflating as the pressure alleviates. Any remaining air is stamped out as Kerry immediately slots between his thighs once more. 

Johnny can practically feel Eurodyne’s cock twitching with the mere disturbance of space, tantalizingly close. His inhale is ragged and anticipatory. 

There’s no worry about dry friction, not when Rogue practically dumped half a bottle  _ into  _ him. Makes slick dribble out of his hole as he squirms in suspense.

Kerry doesn’t waste a second before frotting around his sloppy hole, catching slick against his length as he tends to do. He feeds his cock into his greedy body, as slow as he needs to be and no slower as he stretches Johnny’s rim open around his girth, and roughly fucks forward with a satisfied groan.

The noise Silverhand releases is obscene and effeminate— a tight, reedy noise in the back of his throat that gets all but punched out of his lungs. The pressure is immediately overwhelming, instinctively drawing his bound legs closer to his chest to alleviate the weight in his guts.

Without Rogue, he’d worry about Kerry breaking him in two.

“Easy, now,” she orders, having to snap the leash for her command to be heeded. Kerry growls against the demand but listens nonetheless.

His definition of easy varies from the rest of them; he draws out and stuffs himself back into Johnny’s tight hole at a tempo much too fast for Johnny to accommodate comfortably, panting thinly and whimpering each time he bottoms out with a loud clap of skin. But for what’s to come, this is markedly gentle.

“There you go, open him up,” Rogue encourages. She sweeps hair out of Johnny’s face sweetly, her other hand cradling his cheek with her thumb stroking the curve of his cheekbone. “Make such’a good stud, Kerry. You gonna breed my bitch for me?”

Silverhand’s cock jumps at that, ramrod stiff and absolutely drooling onto himself. Almost forgot his role in all this past something for Kerry to stick his cock into. 

Kerry hadn’t forgotten, however, seeing as he takes her words at face value and finds leverage on either side of Johnny’s hips. Hunching over the bassist, he shifts and digs his heels in to fuck into the pliant body beneath him. 

The cock ring Rogue made him wear holds his release miles above him, making him work for it. Poor Johnny doesn’t have the luxury of getting his release staggered, already steadily approaching his end as Kerry pounds into him now without abandon.

“K-Ker,” Johnny pleads in a false bid for mercy, which he certainly doesn’t get. They all mutually understand that he doesn't  _ want  _ him to stop, not until the safe word is ripped from his throat. 

The stretch and pull from Kerry’s girth is all he can focus on as the man fucks harder and deeper into him. Pressing further than any toy they own could, and infinitely hotter. 

All he wants is to wrap himself around Kerry, force him deeper, and bodily hold him in place as he blindly fucks him. Tries to, even, until he’s reminded of his lowly status by the bite of rope against his wrists. 

“F-Fuck— can I?” he gasps, messing his hair as he tilts his head back to peek at Rogue. Begging for permission to succumb to Kerry’s pounding, to paint his belly and relieve the pressure twisting in his abdomen. 

She ponders it for a moment. Still carding her fingers through his locks, it’s an oddly intimate gesture in the scheme of things. One hand still wrapped up keeping Kerry’s leash taut, and the other soothing the seams out of his brow. 

“Go ahead,” she smiles. “But he’s not gonna stop until he's done with you.”

Johnny shallowly moans at that. At that point, there’s no element of choice to it; his body reacts without him. He thrashes against the bonds, and Eurodyne growls at the reaction he earns, not slowing down even as thick ropes of cum spill onto the planes of his stomach. 

Back arching, legs straining where they’re bound, Johnny chokes on a hoarse cry as pleasure ripples through him like an electrical arc. There’s no come-down, not with Kerry pounding into him relentlessly. It keeps the electrical shock of euphoric release ramping up higher and higher, until his waterline stings. 

Kerry fixes him with a blissfully empty look. No thoughts, his only focal point being the sloppy heat of Johnny’s body and his near-distant release. Lazy and half-lidded, even as sweat drips from his brow and off the arch of his nose. 

And he’s drooling. Panting raggedly as he pumps his cock into the pliant body, drool slips from his lips and mingles with the pool of cum running between Johnny’s pecs, down his navel. 

“Nh— i-it’s too much,” Johnny whimpers, whole lower half trembling as Eurodyne mindlessly carries on. 

“You know the safe word,” Rogue coaxes him, trying to encourage its use if it is decidedly more than he can handle. 

All he emits are crackling moans and frantic pants. They all know his safe word, and he knows he’s in an environment comfortable enough for him to call it. Still, he offers the lightest shake of his head in the negative, and where Kerry had eased back a touch at the utterance of  _ safe word,  _ he gets right back to it. 

The sound of Johnny’s wrecked hole being used is obscene— each stroke resulting in sounds of obnoxious slick and heavy skin-on-skin contact as Kerry groans low in his throat. The vocalist’s eyes flutter shut, lifting his head up to pant with a lopsided smile. 

“Johnny make a good bitch, Ker?” Rogue prompts. 

Eurodyne nods absently, only hearing his name past the pulse of his heartbeat and the sounds of sex. Satisfied with the answer, she turns her attention to Johnny. 

“He’s gonna breed you, nice and deep,” she croons, sweeping wayward hair from his eyes, “and he’s gonna make sure you’re full.”

“S-shit,” Johnny coughs the words up. Can hardly even process beyond Kerry seeming to fuck deeper, more intensely as he tortures him with his pleasure. 

“Good. Just take it, Johnny,” she praises. Where she’d normally be quieter, perhaps more stern in place of sweetness, she’s overcompensating. Can’t move on to cruelty before Silverhand even knows if he likes it. 

Though it seems promising, seeing as he arches his back and squirms against the comforter. 

The movement wrenches an animalistic growl from Kerry’s throat, temper flaring at the inadvertent attempt to prevent his claiming of Johnny. In stark contrast to her cloying sweetness with their sub, she tugs at Eurodyne’s leash sharply. Reprimanding him for his show of possession. 

Doesn’t even need words to remind Kerry of his place. She shares a stern look with those empty eyes, breathing a bit more cognizance into them, all beyond Johnny’s notice. Too busy fighting the jerks and shudders of his limbs that would guarantee rope burn. 

Ker never stops moving his hips, just draws out the strokes in the few seconds they share eye contact. Pushes and pulls Johnny’s shuddering breath as he works him over. 

“Off.”

The typically well-behaved man looks as close to snarling and disobeying their domme as Johnny’s ever seen him. Hackles up, bristling at the audacity to remove him from his rightful position, seated deep within the rockerboy’s body.

Relenting, he straightens and pulls out with a pop. It rips an uncomfortable groan from Johnny, hole fluttering around nothing in the absence of his cock. 

Already, Rogue is working to rearrange her boys to her liking— or rather, moving Johnny’s entirely immobile body to her whim. Gently, she pushes Johnny up into a kneel against Kerry’s chest as she shifts about.

In the short moment where Johnny is flush against Kerry, he almost feels small compared to the other man’s rampaging libido, his sexuality smothering anything else in the room. Pupils blown wide enough to eclipse most of the warm brown of his irises, brows furrowed as he bites his tongue against his flaring temper, and cock throbbing against Johnny’s stomach.

He’s not allowed to mark, not allowed to bite, but no one said he can’t kiss. Nuzzling against the rockerboy’s neck, urging him to let him have unfettered access to that delicious stretch of skin, Kerry presses open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his clavicle. Hot breath washes over his skin, eliciting a shudder as his overshot nerves spark against the slightest stimulation now.

A whimper escapes him as teeth graze the bulge of his major artery. Feels almost like a prey animal beneath hungry, drooling jaws. That’s essentially what he is in that moment; waiting to be eaten.

Rogue snaps her fingers at the small vocalization, catching the misstep the moment it happens. Johnny simply doesn’t whimper to make that noise at his own conscious will.

Kerry barely pulls away from the feverish skin to glare over Johnny’s shoulder at Rogue.

He’s pulled away from him in that second, and momentarily he fears Kerry just cost both of them their releases with his unruly disposition. He’s reassured as he’s turned and brought down to Rogue’s chest. A chaste kiss is pressed to the bridge of his nose as she catches the knit of worry in his brows.

Now laying down across Rogue’s body, his back is arched for Kerry as her thighs spread between his, and her feet drag back against the comforter. Forced open and spread, a shiver of anticipation teases its way up his spine knowing that Kerry is eyeing him like a piece of meat.

It’s certain that the little interlude has helped to curb his release.

“Gentle,” she looks up at Kerry, somehow able to aptly maintain her control despite how she’s pinned with Johnny’s weight. 

There’s a second of terse eye contact, with words lingering unspoken on Kerry’s lips before he blinks first. Looks back down at the sub between them, delicately shivering and hole bearing down on nothing. He’s delectable.

The shift in expression isn’t lost on Johnny, even as the new stimuli chug through his brain. He’s absolutely vulnerable, at the mercy of his partners. Feels Kerry’s eyes rove over him hungrily, searing his skin with each pass. The anticipation is almost worse, especially as his own gaze naturally dips down. 

He’s the hardest he’d ever seen Kerry, engorged and angry from the start-stop of the permissions he’s given. Looks ready to spill, but is choked back by the restrictive ring. Even with the stretch of the toy, it’s a miracle he can fit. 

Or he’s hopelessly unaware of how sloppy his hole already is. 

Johnny’s breath hitches as Kerry leans forward again, teasing him now by refusing him the glorious pressure. He watches the pink of his tongue lick his lips, even though it’s unnecessary with the gloss of drool trailing down his throat. Purely signaling intent.

He’s stuck fast, trapped between Rogue’s body and Kerry’s. Something adrenaline-adjacent thrums through his veins, making his extremities tingle and his own cock throb in time with his pulse. 

Can’t help but vocalize as Kerry steadily feeds his girth back into him, matching Eurodyne’s own noise at the renewal of heat around his cock. Too easy, too maddening. 

Obediently, the vocalist goes slow, making Johnny feel every inch. A feat, with the ample amount of lube Rogue used. Kerry’s mouth falls open in a happy pant again, head cocked back slightly as he takes full advantage of Johnny’s position. Deeper, until the weight of his balls rests against the swell of Silverhand’s ass. 

“Good boy,” Rogue praises. Even with the praise, she affirms her superiority over the mutt between Johnny’s legs. “Make him feel it.”

There’s a moment of pause, Kerry’s eyes narrowing as he discerns her meaning. Already been scolded twice, and Rogue isn’t one for allowance once they’ve struck three strikes in a round. Rogue smirks. Smug as her hard work in breaking them in is showing promising results before her eyes. With a half-nod, she hands the reigns over to Kerry and settles back against the comforter.

Good boys get good rewards.

Johnny knows he’s in for it when string-calloused fingers dig into the soft flesh around his hips, hauling him back against Kerry’s hips just before he pulls out. Keeps him steady as he drives back into him with a satisfied groan.

In such a debasing position, face down with his hips hiked up by the curve of Rogue’s knees, Johnny can’t help but mewl. A trembling sound through his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut to stop them from rolling back as the angle manages to pull Kerry even deeper.

“Fu-  _ ah—!”  _ Johnny cries, the rumbling groan being broken as the tentative thrusts make the leap into punishing. Just needed a second to get a good foothold in the sheets, get his bearings again, before he relentlessly pounds into Johnny. No holds barred, as his nails bite into the sensitive skin of his ribs and score red welts down to his love handles.

His breath hitches, his spent cock drooling pre onto the sheets between his and Rogue’s legs. Still achingly hard to the point of throbbing nigh-painfully, his next release already begins its rapid ascent to the surface.

Feels like a proper breeding mount, Kerry growling and drooling over his back as he mindlessly pumps his cock into him. Frenzied as he chases his high, lost to the scene entirely. The pretty noises he rips from Johnny’s throat and the physical reactions to the assault against his prostate only spurring him on.

Not gonna be able to walk after he’s through with him.

The clasp of Kerry’s leash clinks against the loop of his collar, reminding Johnny with each stroke that he’s entirely at the vocalist’s mercy. Rogue has stepped back, offering much-needed reassurance in the form of gentle palms sweeping over his shoulder and fingers threading through his hair as she watches his destruction.

Hunching over Johnny’s back, he fucks like a roused dog with shallow bucks of his hips. It explodes sparks behind Silverhand’s eyes, unable to control himself as he goes temporarily mute and his eyes show their whites. Fluttering shut, one eye lagging behind the other, Johnny finds his voice again as more cum is fucked out of him. Each time Kerry bottoms out, another meager spurt of cum meets the bed.

“Ker— Ker, I can’t,” he whines, still pointedly avoiding the set of words that would end the scene instantly. Always one to push his limits and trespass into waters untraversed. 

His nails bite brutally into his palms, his words only netting him all of a half-second of hesitation from the top as he discerns whether he should stop. Decides against it— Johnny’s so pretty when he cries, anyway. 

“Easy now,” Rogue cooes over the sounds of Eurodyne’s vicious claiming. “Just relax.”

Johnny can only get a quivering groan out between ropes of spit falling from his open mouth and the tears threatening to spill over his waterline. He obeys regardless, pulling apart the indiscernible knots his stomach is being tied up in. 

Though he’s no blushing virgin, the command does ease some of the discomforts, melting it into a slurry of pleasure and fullness. Just needs to be reminded sometimes. 

His breath hitches as Kerry’s head falls to his shoulder, only rolling his hips to maintain the punishing tempo. Does unreasonably well even with the slightly-awkward positioning, still managing to wrench cries from Silverhand every few thrusts. 

As the surface tension breaks, tracks of tears frame his cheekbones nicely. Just about the only way to get him to cry, and his partners soak in the sight. Sniffing and singing Kerry’s praises is just about all he’s capable of, anyway. 

He’s marginally pulled out of the stupor as the sharp points of Eyrodyne’s incisors pierce the sensitive flesh at the base of his neck. Supplies him with ample groans and growls as he nears his climax. Still nowhere near done, but his gut coils tighter and tighter as Johnny milks him obscenely. His body  _ needs  _ it.

Another hitching sob as Johnny instinctively tenses against the pain. Kerry only shifts his mouth over the tender flesh and bites again, hard enough to bruise with the force. His inner sadist shows as he purrs out a rumbling groan as Johnny keens and writhes. 

A litany of tight mewls and whimpers escape Johnny, matching the steady tempo of Eurodyne’s hips. As Rogue keeps tucking loose hair behind his ear, the bassist has no option left to hide the look of utter agony as he is tortured in rapturous pleasure. Eyes stuck in a permanent roll under drooping lids and glistening with tears, mouth forming the meaningless noises and occasional curses, and his chin slick with drool and tears alike, he looks more like exaggerated erotica than he does a man.

Broad tongue lapping over the blossoming semi-circle of pink and white where his teeth dimpled the surface, Kerry smooths over the hurt. Presses his cheek against the feverish skin to nuzzle as he chases his end. 

His end is tantalizingly close. Balls full and aching from the three-odd hours of stimulation, the steadily approaching finale only riles him further. 

Hardly having enough brain cells to process anything past the sickening ache of his hole being abused and the muffled noises of sex, Johnny thinks he blacked out for a moment. The only thing that exists in that present moment is the steady plunge of Kerry’s cock into the deepest parts of him and the roar of his blood in his ears. 

The world around him sharply returns to focus at the throaty whine above him, eyes widening with a glint of clarity returning with Rogue’s following words. 

“Atta boy. Knock him up.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs, with the warm wetness of Johnny’s hole milking him and the delightful noises he makes for the neighbors— Rogue’s explicit permission is the final nail in the coffin. 

Practically splits Johnny in half as he finally slides home for the last time, head tilted back in an open cry. All Johnny’s poor cock can do is twitch and jerk as he’s forced to orgasm again, entirely spent, and feel Kerry finally fill his guts to the brim. 

With the ringing in his ears from the explosive finale, he hardly notices the faint  _ snap  _ and sting from overtaxed silicone as Eurodyne’s cock ring breaks. Unable to bear the full brunt of the pressure as he properly knocks Johnny up. He’s a slave to his base instincts.

Kerry doesn’t even stop rutting into the ruined rim until the jingle of his collar sounds in his ears. Rogue leaned over in his distraction, reclaiming control. 

A proper sob escapes Johnny as he’s filled to the brim with Kerry’s seed, the vocalist making sure to get it as deep as he could. Bucks his hips one last time, cum slipping free from Silverhand’s wrecked hole and dribbling down his perineum.

It feels as though it never stops coming, Kerry emptying his balls into Johnny until he’s trembling where he’s braced on either side of the bassist’s body and whining at the end of each ragged breath. Drool drips into the notch of Johnny’s spine as Kerry’s tongue rolls out of his mouth in primal ecstasy. 

“There you go...” Rogue croons, smiling at the absolutely mindless, dopey look of pleasure written across Kerry’s face. “You make a good breeder, Ker.”

A gentle moan at the crude praise, and then a meager whisper; “thank you.”

Never forgets his manners, properly expressing his gratitude for the privilege of his release. It wrung every ounce of energy from his body, feeling as though he had just woken up from a hard rest with how his eyes flutter tiredly and his hands sluggishly drift up to Johnny’s hips.

The contact elicits a soft whimper from Silverhand, instinctively tensing against the predicted torture of compounded overstimulation. Kerry using his words signals the end to their scene, that he won’t be subjected to any more mind-numbing pleasure, but that doesn’t stop his body from reflexively preparing. It doesn’t come, instead of receiving reassuring pets from Rogue and quiet words.

“You’ve been such a good toy for Kerry,” Rogue murmurs, lips brushing against Johnny’s temple. The bassist can’t help the almost violent trembling of his body as he slowly begins to come down, the occasional noise arising from his hoarse throat as he nuzzles into the comfort. “I gotcha, big guy. Relax.”

Allowing his eyes to drift shut, he inhales an aching breath and holds it in a vain attempt to curb the shaking. Above him, the collar jingles and he feels Rogue nod.

“Gonna…” Kerry starts, still out of breath and scratchy, “gonna pull out now, Johnny.”

All he gets is a half-hearted huff of acknowledgment. 

Tentatively, Kerry draws his hips back until the tip pops free. Rips an unhappy noise from Johnny, his wrecked hole gaping and bearing down around nothing. Really did a number on him.

As Rogue shuffles up to sit and undo his arms, Kerry steals a second to admire his work. Gently spreads him open, a low hum rattling his throat as he takes in the sight. Being inspected in such an intimate way makes Johnny groan, a meager attempt at a growl to chase Kerry off, spare him the further embarrassment.

“Pretty…” Kerry murmurs, almost inaudible. 

The moment the binds of his arms go slack, he sags into the sheets. Rogue smooths her palms over the strained muscle of his shoulders, kneading out the knots and residual tension.

“Turn him over for me, Ker.”

Delicately, they maneuver Johnny as if he’s made of fine china. Don’t expect him to be able to move his lower half much, let alone effectively.

“Gonna clean you up— you want lotion too?” Rogue says, standing with one final kiss to Johnny’s forehead. He grumbles something at the little peck but nods curtly. “Sit still for me, I’ll be right back.”

A rough groan escapes his throat as the binds of his right leg finally release him. The strain on his knee is felt in full then, leg trembling mightily as he stretches it out to its full length and folds it close again.

Kerry offers a sympathetic noise, making quick work of the other leg to allow him to stretch it as well. Then his broad palms sweep along the underside of his thighs, kneading the muscle. Shuffling forward, pressing flush to Johnny, he peppers little kisses to the bassist’s knees, calves, anywhere he can reach.

“Thank you,” he mumbles softly, interrupted by pecks, “so good… felt so good.”

“Keep it t’yourself,” Johnny puffs, throwing an arm over his face to hide his embarrassed blush from Kerry.

**Author's Note:**

> [lambchop's twitter](https://twitter.com/commanderbait)   
>  [cowboyflesh’s twitter](https://twitter.com/silverdynes)


End file.
